Pierce searched the cave’s bottom. There were many chests strewn about the bottom rather hastily.
“Do you have to throw these old chests around so violently?” I asked.
“If we want to live, we have to keep finding more and more treasure. This cave is pointless. These are filled with crappy old clothing.” Pierce opened another chest and pulled out a leather glove.
“We can always move on from this one. Have you found any other tunnels that connect to this one?” I asked Pierce.
Jacob opened a chest and found nothing.
“I checked the perimeter. I couldn’t find any more openings. I am going to get out of this dead end and keep searching the rest of the fjord. Maybe we will have better luck somewhere else.” Pierce swam back up to the stalactite tunnel.
“I am going too.” Jacob followed Pierce, holding a rusty metal gauntlet.
“I will stay back and see if there is anything else down here.”
I pushed away from the opened and ransacked chests in the middle of the cave’s bottom and searched for what had made this cave so important. Of course, it was quite feasible to think this place had already been looted and penetrated. Then again, before the ice caps melted this location, it would have been very difficult to get to. It would have been a hazardous incline. These cliffs were unforgiving and very high above the water, making a fall deadly.
I used my torch to observe the area where the wall met the cave floor. I soon found a rope curled and broken on the bottom. I quickly swam up the side wall next to the rope and found the rest. This part of the rope was still attached to the wall and led to another cave opening. I swam in. My heart skipped a beat. I was on the trail of a major discovery. I could feel it in my bones.
I kept the torch pointed at the rope and followed it deeper into the tunnel. In the Siren Guard, we trained in places of major battle engagements. Every time we trained in the hallowed waters of these historical battles, there was a sense of the supernatural that filled the water around them. I wanted my sirens to train in Normandy, France, the site of a great battle between the Allied and Axis Powers. That was a powerful experience, and this cave gave me a similar feeling. One more of haunting fear than of solemn reflection, however.
The end of the line appeared. A few lengths ahead lay another skeleton. Then another. I searched for their weapons of choice. Another rusty sword fragment lay in the rib cage of one of the dead men. Another weapon was still in the exposed bone digits of the other skeleton. It was a mace. A Viking weapon in the fjords was not uncommon, but high in a cave system protected by treacherous cliffs?
“What were you two battling over?” I scanned the area with my torch.
A dragon’s snarled snout startled me. Its gnashed teeth. Carved eyes as cold as the water. The ornamental dragon that adorned the front of the funerary boat designed for safe passage to Valhalla stood strong in the cave. I was afraid to touch it and destroy its perfection. It had to be built in this cave it was too old to be built during The Great Calamity
I swam to the top of the tunnel over the boat. The contents of the boat were evermore impressive. In the center of the boat was a throne. A throne with two spires and a raised headrest that shined in the beam of my torch. I carefully swam closer to the Viking throne to examine the shiny object. It was a green stone inlaid into the throne itself. The color was vibrant in the light, and the inside of the stone seemed to swirl as if the stone contained magical properties. I reached out, and my heart began to beat rapidly.
Something didn’t feel right. This boat—this stone, rather—was the reason for all the past carnage.
I swam a few lengths away. My heart settled. I debated whether or not to grab the stone in exchange for food with Monty. The bastard.
I tried again, thinking of Pierce and Jacob. Again, I drew closer, and my heart pounded. I grabbed my chest and spun around. I couldn’t bring myself to grab it. I was in a full-blown panic attack. I thought my heart would give out. It beat so laboriously. I swam back out of the tunnel and tried to get as far away from the stone as possible.
Chapter Six
I finally steadied my heartbeat enough, so I could wield the torch without trembling. I swam out of the cave system and back out into the submerged fjord. I had had a hard time processing why the stone had affected me in the manner it had and wondered what it could possibly be. What magic lay in the emerald stone? Its power nearly killed me. Men had fought and died over it.
“Have you found anything?” Pierce’s voice burst from behind me.
“No, no, I haven’t. Nothing of value to Monty,” I lied, sparing Pierce from making his own haphazard attempt at retrieving the deadly stone.
“We are in for major trouble if we don’t produce anything for Montgomery.” Pierce shook his head.
“I found a few trinkets.” Jacob joined us in between the cliffs of the fjord, but he carried nothing of value. Just two utensils and three ceramic plates.
A pulsing tone vibrated from the underbelly of Monty’s ship. It was time to return to the brig.
“Next time we are out on a game of fetch, we have to find a way to escape and remove these damn tracking implants.” I shook my head.
“Be prepared for some unpleasant treatment.” Pierce swam back towards the ship.
“Steel yourselves, gentlemen. Jacob, I think you can drop that trash,” I said.
“I will take it with. Ya’ never know.”
At least an hour passed. No lights in the brig. We were in our confined tanks and full of dread. A light flickered on. A few more moments passed before boots clomped down the steel steps.
“Well, sirens, what have you for me tonight? I hope it’s worthy of my time. Rumor is that these fjords hold a great ancient treasure. Why do I feel like it’s Christmas morning? Please tell me these feelings are merited.” Montgomery walked over to the tank where we usually dropped the treasure. This time, it only held Jacob’s shit he’d stupidly offered.
After thirty-three dives, we had always found something of value and always delivered. This time, though, the treasure I’d found I could not wield, nor would I want someone like Monty to have it either. The ceramic plates were all we had.
“Oh. Oh dear. Like a petulant child upset that Santa failed him, I want to throw a fit. Of course, I won’t be expending as much energy as the three of you.” Montgomery walked behind our tanks.
Suddenly the tanks began to empty. It had been a while since the three of us breathed air. Our lungs would have to transition. It left us at a disadvantage for a few seconds.
Jacob coughed first. Then Pierce. I began to convulse, not used to the stale air of the brig. The walls of our tanks collapsed outward. We all fell to the floor, stretched out, gasping for air. Pierce settled down first. His lungs filled with air more efficiently. Jacob still coughed. The older I got, the harder the transition. I coughed harder, expelled some water, and gulped the air.
“Your weakness sickens me.” Montgomery knelt down next to Jacob. He stroked his hair that was stuck to his forehead.
Jacob’s coughing continued.
“You fat bastard. Stop coughing.” Montgomery stroked Jacob’s hair.
“Do you understand that your failures have weight? Have consequences? Do you understand, you dumb shit?” Montgomery’s voice didn’t increase in volume, only in tenacity. He stopped the gentle stroke of Jacob’s hair and grabbed a handful. He bounced Jacob’s head off the steel floor. Blood spattered. He did it again. More blood.
“Stop,” Pierce begged.
We were too weak to put up much of a fight, having expended our energy on the last dive with very little food in our stomachs.
Montgomery stopped before he bashed poor Jacob’s head off the brig floor again.
“You know what. You are right. Let’s have a look at the wares you brought me.”
Montgomery stood up and walked over to the tank in the floor of the brig. He put his hands on his hips. He was short in stature. For some reason, being out of t
he tank allowed for a more accurate measurement of his height.
“Oh, a couple forks and some plates. How lovely.” He bent and grabbed for a fork.
I attempted to stand up but fell back down. Pierce tried to do the same but didn’t have the energy. Jacob coughed more and more. His cough didn’t improve, seeming to get worse.
“How do we stop the god damn coughing?” Montgomery stood straight. He twirled the fork between his fingers.
I managed to crawl towards Jacob. I had hoped to shield him from whatever Monty had planned. I paid for it. Monty’s boot hit the side of my face, the shock from the blow more powerful than the pain.
“You boys have bonded so much. I would very much like to share in that camaraderie. How very important it is to build rapport amongst the captives, I say. I mean you can’t have a full-scale revolt brewing. One couldn’t even sleep at night, worried about how the enslaved could become the slavers.”
Jacob started to convulse. Blood still poured from his forehead.
Monty picked his head up once more. “This is how we stop the coughing.” Monty drove the fork into Jacob’s neck.
Jacob violently shook. His arms flailed. He stood up then slipped back down to the floor. Montgomery backed up and watch him die.
Jacob twitched as he removed the fork from his neck. The carotid artery had been struck. I grabbed for Jacob’s hand and caught his gaze while he bled out in front of me.
“Finally, the coughing stopped. You sirens have to get better at breathing air. Also, get better at finding treasure so something this unfortunate does not happen again. This big oaf died like a stuck pig. You don’t want the same to happen to you. Do you? I will leave this mess here for a while. His blood sure smells salty, doesn’t it? Ick. I have to get out of here. There will be some chum headed your way. You two are my only hope now.” Montgomery walked up the steel steps and out of the brig. He left the lights on.
Jacob lay dead, his blood steadily pouring from his neck wound.
Chapter Seven
Pierce and I remained silent. Poor Jacob didn’t deserve such an agonizing death. A cruel death. At that moment, my rage was tempered by my exhaustion, but the thought of ending Montgomery still sparked. I was adept at murder. My Silver Spear medal was for valor, but the metal of that token of recognition bore more pain than its slight weight could physically muster. I killed many to earn it.
Pierce spoke first. “Why us? Why did Monty want us for his treasure-hunting excursions?”
“Isn’t it obvious, mate? He did his research. He knew we were part of the Guard. Knew we were highly-skilled. Wanted sirens with knowledge of Northern European waters and experience diving into monster-ridden depths. I don’t know why he would have wanted a tired drunkard like myself though,” I answered, then shook my head, still staring at Jacob.
“Take to the drink, do you? Your belly does look a tad soft,” Pierce said.
The brig door opened. A bucket was dumped out onto the stairs. Our dinner. More disgusting fish bits. We had no choice but to eat it. We stood up and grabbed what we could of what clung to the steps and spread over the floor.
“I can’t quite come to terms with the things I did in the Guard. I killed many humans and enemy sirens. Some with my bare hands.” I chewed a tough piece of chum. Labored with it, really.
“I tend to imbibe as well, but not to the extent you claim to. I was special forces. Even engaged in espionage ops within the upper echelons of the Guard. I have done my duty too,” Pierce said.
“Do you have a family, Pierce?” I asked, hoping he would say yes for my selfish reasons.
“No, sir. I do not. I have a mother and father. That is about it. My attempts at romance have always been of the casual nature. I don’t commit. Too busy. Don’t have time for it. You?”
“Yes, I do. I took to drink the night I was captured… I failed to protect them. I could save the sirens under my leadership but not my own family. My little girl was taken. My wife too.” The tear ducts in my eyes awoke and secreted. I spit out a bone and turned away from Pierce.
“Does he know where your family is? Did he sell them?” Pierce rose from the steel floor and put a hand on my back.
“He said they were his property as are we. Said he would check the manifest. It has been months. Who knows where they are? I will find them. I bloody will.”
“No, mate. Not just you. We will find them. He’s let us out of the tanks. When they open the door, we can attempt an escape,” Pierce whispered.
I whispered back, “The implants can be triggered remotely at any time. We have to account for them, or we won’t make it.”
“Remember, I was in espionage and special forces. Stealth is a specialty of mine. We will get to Monty and the trigger mechanism for the shock implants.”
“Why would he leave Jacob on the floor and us out of the tanks? Is he testing our mettle?”
“He has no intention of letting us out of here. Of that I can assure you. We are valuable to him. Perhaps if we start a skirmish between us. He would have to, at some point, protect his assets and send a few of his crew in to stop us. We can use Jacob’s blood to make it seem worse. I know it’s in bad taste, but his death may be useful in this instance.”
“That can work. I will be the one to act the weaker of the two of us. Though not true in reality, and you can push toward the door first, while I mop the rest of them up in here.”
“Right. I am weaker. Funny.” Pierce smirked, his younger, more toned physique obviously better than mine.
The lights went out in the brig. Rest time.
“When the lights illuminate. We fight,” I said.
Chapter Eight
A few hours passed. I had actually fallen asleep. The lights in the brig flickered on. Jacob was still in the room, his body stiffened from rigor mortis, his coloring a pale blue. Pierce had a taken position next to the stairs and lowered into a charging position facing me. I eyed him and nodded my head. I grimaced and tensed my stomach muscles. Pierce speared me to the back wall of the brig.
“Ahhh! You fucking bastard!” I yelled and swore as loudly as possible.
Pierce and I rolled on the floor of the brig. I reached for one of the ceramic plates and broke it over Pierce’s head. A thin trickle of blood traveled from his hairline to the bridge of his nose. He raked my jaw with a hard left hook. Blood burst from my mouth. The more violent, the more convincing.
The brig door opened. Two of Monty’s red-shirted men came in with billy clubs. Behind them was the two-man cleanup team with rubber gloves and mops, ready to remove Jacob from the room.
“Whoa, fellers! Easy on each other. Let us dole out the punishment!” One of the redshirts grabbed Pierce’s ankle and dragged him from his mounted position atop me.
Pierce let himself be dragged before kicking the redshirt in the face with his other leg. His head snapped back. He dropped Pierce’s leg. Pierce then hopped up, grabbed the billy club from his hand, and drove it into Monty’s minion’s throat. It all happened so fucking fast. Monty’s boy grabbed for his neck, and couldn’t, no matter how strenuous the effort, breathe any air. Pierce’s blow had crushed his trachea.
The other redshirt pushed forward into the room and swung his club at Pierce. I managed to intercept the club with two hands. I headbutted the minion, ripped the club from his grip, smashed his nose, then broke his jaw with two solid blows to the face.
Pierce and I both looked to the cleanup crew. They attempted to shuffle back through the door. Pierce threw his club and hit one of them square in the back. I ran, jumped to the stairs, and pulled them both down. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. Without it, we would have not had the strength to take these men down. The thought of Imogen and Maggie kept the glands pumping.
Pierce quickly pounced on the supine man on the right, who still held the back of his head that had raked the metal steps. Pierce put his forearm on his neck so he couldn’t yell out. He increased the weight on the cleanup man’s neck.
; I picked up the one on the left by the head. Gripped his chin with one hand and the back of his head with my other and then snapped his neck.
“You done with him yet?” I said to Pierce.
“Very nearly done, yes.” Pierce still pinned and strangled the man whose convulsions were unsettling, erratic, violent.
“Tough fellow,” I said.
Pierce didn’t flinch. He just watched as the man struggled for his life. A Guardsmen-trained assassin used his skills to devastating effect. Finally, the man succumbed to Pierce’s use of deadly force.
“I suggest we assume the identity of the cleanup crew.” I pulled the rubber gloves off the one I’d killed, then went for his red shirt.
“Yes, carrying around Jacob’s rotting corpse would assuredly keep the rest of Monty’s crew at a safe distance.” Pierced undressed his victim.
“Wouldn’t they just dump him out of the ship in the brig?” I asked, pulling the shirt over my shaggy, unkempt hair.
“My hypothesis is they wanted to dispose of him off the side rather than risk him hitting the propellers under the ship. Alas, we shall see what awaits. Not everything in this line of work is calculably successful. There is often a great deal of risk involved.”
“Hopefully I brought the luck of the Irish with me.” I laughed, securing the gloves to my hand.
My English brother-in-arms just shook his head.
“Grab his torso. I will secure his legs.” Pierce walked over the mess of bodies and Jacob’s blood to the dead Guardsmen’s bottom half.
“Thanks for letting me be the one who has to look at his face.” I picked Jacob up from underneath his armpits. His wetsuit was still moist.
Pierce picked up his legs.
“Big fucker he is,” I said, adjusting my grip. I walked backwards up the stairs.
The brig door was still open. We exited to the left and carried Jacob’s body down the hallway. Pierce locked the brig door. There was another set of stairs. The light beaming down from the stairway signaled the bridge must be up another level.
The Viking Throne: The Cursed Seas Collection Page 3